I'm Quite Aware We're Dying
by lightamatchtoleavemebe
Summary: It's funny how only a semester of English class together can change two people's views of each other. / AU, Kames.
1. Chapter 1

_Another _story from Lightamatchtoleavemebe.

Right?

I'm sure you're all groaning in your mind.

This story has been made to be an eventful process, actually.

You don't even know how many times I freaking changed how I was going to write the damn thing.

In the end, I decided on this form of chapter one.

I have always loved journal type stories, so now I think you all will be enchanted to find one from me (just kidding).

This story has become like. My main priority. I have been writing it since, what? July?

Yeah, that seems about right.

I'm really excited to see how you all take this.

Thank you for everything.

* * *

_September 4th._

"Oh, Kendall," Logan says lightly through the speaker of the phone, almost inaudibly.

"What?" I mutter, letting out a deep breath.

There's no use for getting mad over something like that.

"Ninth grade is going to be different, really. You can totally reinvent yourself, I promise."

"Says the one in tenth grade."

"Hey, my mom pushed me ahead, and besides, it isn't my fault that I am smart."

"Sure, " I smirk to myself, shaking my head in the process.

Instead of answering whatever Logan says back to me, I find myself focusing in on the illuminated screen of my laptop. My fingers manage to navigate me to the school's website, and my stomach's churning once again.

_Welcome to the new and improved website for BLOOMINGTON JEFFERSON HIGH SCHOOL! _

_We take pride in our students and want them to be successful individuals in their later life, meaning we try to do our best with helping them now! Starting high school is stressful, be we try to take at least some of the load off your shoulders. _

_Reminder: School starts TOMORROW, Sept. 5th! There are also HOCKEY TRYOUTS Sept. 6th RIGHT AFTER SCHOOL. Be sure to come support your classmates who are interested, or come on in to tryout YOURSELF._

_On a more important note, __**HAVE FUN THIS YEAR, JAGUARS!**_

_Lunch menu for Sept. 5th: Surpreme Meat Mystery (Tastes G-r-e-a-t, incoming Freshmen!)_

**_*GO JAGUARS!*_**

* * *

Suddenly, it seems reinventing myself isn't that far out of my reach now.

"What the hell is a 'Surpreme Meat Mystery'?" I seem to utter my thought aloud, because Logan chuckles in response.

"If I were you, I would bring a sack lunch for tomorrow."

I sigh deeply, wishing tomorrow would never come.

"You'll be fine, Kendall. I promise."

* * *

_September 5th._

I wake up the next morning to unusual, out of the blue thoughts about someone I've barely uttered a word to.

James Diamond.  
The source of every girl's (and guy's, evidently) frustration since at least third grade.

Will the devil ever come to summon me?

Because everyone knows hell is a million times better than high school.

I think.

* * *

I'm sitting at our kitchen table at 6:45 in the morning, eating bland cereal from the box itself, waiting for the bus to come and whisk me away to the hell that is high school.

Rumor has it that riding the bus makes you 10% more lame. If that rumor has any truth in it, then I'll be the school's instant freak from the very moment I walk into the school.

But I like to keep my head held high- I'm thankful I'm not one of those kids who grow yeast on a plate and give out samples as soon as you enter the building.

That's just fucking odd.

* * *

I'm pondering more about the school's social scenes and circles when my kid sister Katie walks down the cramped stairs into our insanely more cramped kitchen.

Okay, she isn't a kid, she's just shy of turning thirteen.

Although, she acts like a cranky old woman who knows way more than you'll ever dream of knowing. Which, of course, is a false statement all in its own.

She's just a little too, how would you put it? _Sassy._

"Hey, big brother, I hope you won't choke in front of anyone today, especially since it's the first day of your first high school year."

She smiles a little devilishly, and I roll my eyes, hoping she would go away.

"What, no comment? Oh, sorry Kendall, I didn't mean it like that."

_Sure. _

I once again roll my eyes and realize what time it is.

"Shit," I somewhat shriek while grabbing my backpack. "I'm gonna miss the fucking bus!"

The last thing I hear as I run through the front door is, "_Language_, Kendall Donald Knight!"

But I am so completely and utterly okay with that.

* * *

They say high school is difficult to manage the first day. I say, the hell it's not!

It was a breeze finding my science and math classes (finding out that the coolest dude teaches both classes was a relief), and it was easy enough to find my gym class.

But my last class of the day is an obstacle, to say the least. So I take back my statement I previously wrote.

Yeah, I said _wrote_. I believe someday everyone's experiences could be interesting, so I attempt to write down everything I can. It's hard to keep up most days.

Back to my English class.

The office told me one thing, Logan told me another, and even a security guard steered me in the wrong direction. It wasn't until one of the guidance counselors tapped me on the shoulder and told me the right classroom.

Evidently, she said, my English room was one of the select few that had been transferred into an annex right outside the building.

"What a relief," I smile to the woman. "I was looking everywhere for this darn classroom."

Which, is a lie. I had only scoped out the areas in which the above three people had addressed me to look.

But she didn't have to know that.

"Anytime," she laughed. It was a slight breezy laugh, one that made you giggle yourself.

Unless, she knew I was lying?

No, not all that possible, really.

We stood there awkwardly until she spoke. "If you have any more trouble with classes, then you can come see me. I'm in the guidance counselors' offices right upstairs. I'm Sandra Redding, by the way. You are…?"

I say my name, slowly and carefully.

She smiles once more, and pats my shoulder. "Since it's the first day, they'll go easy on you. Promise."

I gulp, letting her walk away before I walk into the room.

"Mr. Knight," a haggardly woman sneers, facing the class instead of addressing me, the one she's fucking talking to. "You know that I would have enjoyed your presence more if you would have shown up on time."

I try to tell her what happened, but she doesn't buy it.

"Just sit down, over there." She points with a crooked finger to the last chair in the last row.

How disappointing.

Her white face shakes with a decaying laughter as I make my way to the back of the room, all 60 eyes in the room burning holes into my back and neck.

All eyes leave me as I face the room again.

All but one set of eyes.

The woman is still glaring at me, but I notice something different about her than what I saw before.

She isn't all that haggardly, actually. Her hair isn't as stringy as I envisioned, and it's not white. More of a brownish gray, her hair grown out from an asymmetrical bob. She's actually… kind of normal.

At least, I thought that until she moved the least expected person beside me:

James.  
Fucking.  
Diamond.

"Oh, and Kendall?"

I look up and the ugly witch is back, her yellow teeth gleaming in the sunlight.

"You and James are paired up for the semester."

I don't see any actual harm in those words until she adds in something completely not needed:

"For the record, Mr. Knight, I believe this to be a punishment for James. He, as a star student, should not need to be paired with such trash as you are, but I think this would be a refreshing derailment of normality for James."

I glance over at said classmate, his face covered by his arm.

He's not as innocent as it seems, is he?

I make it my duty to uncover the dirt.

* * *

As I'm picking up my notebook to put in my backpack, James' eyes lower and he scowls at me.

"Thanks, Knight, for fucking my life up. See you tomorrow on the ice for payback."

As I'm sitting here, reading over what I had written, I seem to remember how it felt to hear him say my name.

Although he rudely spat it out, the thought of him make my heart flutter.

Boy, do I have quite a mouthful to tell Logan.

* * *

review? :)


	2. Chapter 2

Hi guys! I tried to update quickly, but I just guess I couldn't update any quicker.

Thank you all _so so so so so so_ much for the favorites and alerts, and especially the reviews! That is what keeps me going, so thank you. :)

This chapter isn't as long as the first chapter, but it's still of a decent length.

Oh, by the way, I don't own Big Time Rush (I so wish I did, though) or Poptarts.

Okay, I'll shut up now!

Enjoy chapter two.

Edit: I guess I didn't make it obvious who Kendall was speaking to in the beginning of the chapter. I'm sorry about that and any inconvenience it caused. Thank you all so much though :)

* * *

_September 5th (Later, after I had spent eight hours at the hell called school, and then some extra hours hating myself after the hell called school)._

"Kendall, he did not threaten you. I'm sure you're just exaggerating."

Logan is pretty set on James not hating me, just extremely disliking me.

But hey, what exactly is the difference?

I turn the phone from my face and cough.

Maybe I'll get a cold.

Or, maybe I'll be on my deathbed before tomorrow.

You never know.

Oh, wait, that's right. He's yelling at me through the small speaker of my cell phone, making me roll my eyes.

Doesn't he understand I have to write these things down?!

"Oh, Jesus Christ, Kendall. Maybe, if you wish hard enough, and with all your might, maybe he will just shove you into the ice," Logan says snidely.

I try telling him I don't want that, that I just want to stay on his good side in high school.

"Besides, he's not that scary," I add, thinking about his subtly highlighted and caramelized hair.

I hear him giggling and I ask what for, confusion strewn through my voice.

"Oh nothing, nothing at all," and there's that stupid laugh again.

We hang up a little while later, after arguing about something stupid, like we always end up doing. No matter what.

Hence why I did not remember the topic of discussion.

I still question everyday why I'm holding onto this friendship.

I guess arguing is good for you, though?

On second thought, I hate the little shrimp.

* * *

September 5th (Much later, surprisingly closer to September 6th than the 5th, I hate not being able to peacefully sleep. Or, ahem, to sleep at all).

I often question my sanity, and at a late time like this, it's almost the perfect time to bark back and forth with what I think is going to happen and what I know is going to happen.

_What I think is going to happen:_

-I annoy the witch and James so much that James fights me right there and then while the old lady cackles from her dusty puke green desk.

_What I know is going to happen:_

-I annoy them like above, but James doesn't beat me up; he only glares. The old hag laughs the same old cackle she did today, making me wish James would have beaten me up anyways.

I need sleep. That's pretty sad the only factor that is plain and simple is the fact I need sleep to think properly.

* * *

_September 6th (So early, in fact, the stars are still out. But I don't mind)._

I hear rustling and my eyes shoot all the way open, making my heart beat a thousand times faster.

I need to check this out.

Let's be a man, Kendall.

* * *

_September 6th (A little while later, I'd say ten minutes)._

False alarm.  
I grabbed my plastic baseball bat for nothing.

And my only shred of dignity.

I quietly opened my bedroom door, facing the dark hallway.

Someone slides past me and I whip the cheap bat at them, thinking I could save the day.

Turns out it was Katie, only getting a drink of water.

"Kendall, are you really that much of an idiot?!" The scowl on her face, priceless.

The red splotch on her forehead?

Still priceless.

But in any sense, yes, little sister, you're right. I am a huge idiot.

The biggest one you'll ever meet.

Now thinking of being an idiot… Reminds me I need to sharpen my skates.

At 3:45 in the morning.

Hey, it's perfectly logical!

I'll write tomorrow. Er, later today.

* * *

_September 6th (Still early, but not insanely early. Breakfast time)._

Katie's been glaring at me from the entire time I walked downstairs to eat to right now, when I asked her what was wrong.

"The problem, big brother," she says through gritted teeth, "Is this!"

She flips up her usually parted a different way bangs to show me a nasty bruise.

I sit there for a moment on a blank, and then, then I remember.

But how could it bruise so quickly?

Katie continues to scowl at me, tapping the spoon on the table in a rhythmic fashion. "I'm waiting for your apology, Kendall."

Right, right.

"I am sorry for the fact I hit you with a baseball bat, little sister."

I smile curtly and await her response.

"And?" her spoon is raised and she is looking at me with wide eyes and eyebrows.

And what? What more could she want?

Sighing, I answer. "I won't ever do it again. But I thought you were an intruder, so I had reasoning. Not like I would just wait until you woke up to smoke you with a plastic bat. Oh wait… That's actually a good plan."

That remark breaks her cold stature, making her mouth fold back into a smile. The smile that I love dearly.

I lean over and ruffle her hair, standing up to throw the Poptart wrapper away.

"Ugh, quit Kendall, I'm not a little kid anymore," she states as I throw the shiny wrapper away, making me laugh in the process.

"Sure, Katie. Whatever you say. But when you get home this afternoon, be expecting all of your stuffed animals to be gone."

"Noooooo!"

"Relax, I'm only kidding," I scoff, picking up my backpack and my hockey gear.

"Have a good day," she calls as I walk out the door.

You too, Katie. You too.

Thinking about it, that was the moment I pretty much lost it. I'm sitting on the front step, hoping the bus isn't there at the stop yet. I just needed to have a moment of peace, and if that meant taking some time to write an entry then so be it.

* * *

_September 6th (Later, at lunch)._

Logan would so skip out on me two days in a row for math club.

Of course he would, who would want to be seen with me, especially since I've had this notebook practically glued to me lately?

It's only normal to be weirded out, really.

* * *

Sighing, I thank the wrinkled lunch lady for ringing up my food and I walk slowly into the lunch room, looking for someone to sit by.

There's no one.

But.

James.

And.

His.

Fucking.

Crew.

Actually, I used to be close friends with most of them. Then a huge falling out happened and everything went to hell.

Although that is a story for another place, another time.

One that I prefer not to tell.

* * *

Lunch by myself is good, I think.

I can write in my journal and just quietly observe everything around me, instead of holding up a real conversation about shit I couldn't give two shits about with people I don't care for.

Much safer, too.

I don't really think of too many harsh things though, sitting here in a lunchroom filled with idiots.

Maybe.

* * *

I am eating the halfway decent chicken sandwich when someone taps my shoulder.

I look up, not really expecting anyone too important.

But no, no one there.

There's another tap on my shoulder and I turn my body around.

My face is like.

Three inches from James' fucking crotch.

Oh well.

"I'm pretty much screwed, aren't I?"

He shakes his head. "No, not really."

"What do you want then, James?"

He hesitates before answering, his brown locks falling in his eyes. "Can we talk?"

What?

Talking?

Is he insane?

"Uh, sure, I guess."

And I could have sworn I saw a glimmer of a smile on his beautifully evil face.

* * *

review? :)


	3. Chapter 3

Hopefully you all enjoy this chapter. It's very Kendall and James oriented, so I bet you all will like it :)

I think this is my longest chapter yet, haha.

Expect another update in the next few days.

Thank you all so much!

* * *

_September 6th (After being dragged out of the lunchroom by James. Now, I'm sitting in the bathroom. The bathroom toilet may be a little warm to a bystander by the time I have to leave and pack up for English)._

As I skip the rest of the lunch period in favor of sitting in the bathroom, in one of the cleaner stalls, I recount what happened to the best of my abilities.

Er, I try to recount the past thirty minutes.

"Where are we going?" I ask, although I know I'm not going to receive an answer. Me asking, actually, is quite pointless.

Just thinking about what happened right now makes my stomach hurt. It's just not normal. For anyone.

So anyways.

"We're going somewhere," he states, looking around the hall before pushing a random door open.

"What do you mean?" I don't mean to ask, but it slips out.

I'm a few steps behind him, and that makes him become increasingly impatient.

Wow. You have to hold a fucking door open. Big fucking whoop there, James.

"Hurry up," he scowls, running up yet another set of stairs.

"I am, James, or at least I am trying to!"

And finally. He stops.

Dead in his tracks.

An action which made me bump into him, sending him into the ground.

Luckily, I grabbed onto his hand right when one of his knees barely slid across the tiled floor, saving him from a bigger collision that was bound to happen.

And as he turned around to say something, I could see his cheeks burning up.

Maybe, I thought then, at that moment. Maybe he's going to thank me.

Then I realized, my hand was still intertwined with his own.

That's not good. Better let it go.  
Whatever happened next was a blur.

James turned to the gray metal door and dug around in his sweet leather jacket for evidently, a key.

When I say a sweet leather jacket, I really mean an unattractive and at least three sizes too big leather jacket.

Wait, was that pleather?

He inserted the key into the dull knob, a sign of mistreatment to the caring of the door, I expected something else.

I expected it to be a cool hangout where James and his upperclassmen friends joked about people like me, drinking some non-alcoholic beer to boot.

I was completely wrong.

"I've never shared this with anyone," he says somewhat softly, as if it's a touchy subject to talk about.

I follow him inside the small room, and observe my surroundings.

It's just an old supply closet, filled with dusty chemicals and shelves of rags and handheld broom units.

There's a couple chairs, with the dark blue paint peeling to show a gray undercoat, facing each other, with a stack of weathered newspaper clippings on one of them.

He looks back at me as if to say, "sit."

So I do, awkwardly enough. I see more than I bargained for of his little ass, perfect and nice looking just like the rest of him.

He clears off the papers and puts them on the ground beside the chairs, not fast enough, though, because I could see what was on the last one.

**_Kendall Knight, future hockey star or chump?_**

It shouldn't have hit me as hard as it did, it really shouldn't have.

* * *

James and I looked at each other for a few seconds, and when someone finally spoke, the silence was immediately even more awkward.

"So," I said, looking at his twirling thumbs in his lap. "What did you want to talk to me about?"

He looks at me almost in a confused fashion before nodding his head.

"You looked lonely."

My eyebrows furrow and I take another glance at him, trying to figure out his plan. "Excuse me?"

There's a hint of a grin on his face, and he takes a moment to respond. "You looked lonely sitting down there. At lunch."

"So fucking what? Why do you care?"

"Because I've been in your position, Kendall."

"What are you talking about? What kind of shit therapy lesson is this?"

I begin to stand but he reaches over and pulls me back down.

There's those butterflies again. Dammit.

"Just hear me out."

I remember my brain being frazzled to no end, and when I looked up into his sparkling eyes, I realized he was telling the truth.  
Which, now thinking about it, should have had the opposite effect. This is supposed to be a tale of two guys hating each other, not a sickeningly cute story of understanding the other guy.

"Kendall, can I tell you something? Out of pure confidence?"

Was he only saying this because he knows I have no friends to tell it to, or was he asking me this to weasel a confession out of me to release to the whole school?

I try to say something, anything, but it just comes out jumbled and rushed. Instead, I nod.

He nods back in assurance, and begins to talk.

"You know how when we were kids, or more specifically, you remember when I moved here and we had practice, here, at the high school?"

I let out a single noise and he continues.

"Remember when all of you didn't look twice at me, or even acknowledged my presence?"

What is this, a party trying to get me to feel guilty? Not going to work James.

"Well, one day after practice, a kind janitor lead me up here, and gave me two copies of his key to this room. He told me that anytime I felt upset or not needed just to come up here and relax. So I followed his advice. Everytime you guys ignored me or made fun of me, I made a plea to Coach about needing time alone. I came up here almost everyday, from third grade to now, I suppose. He, the janitor, met me up here sometimes. He told me I could tell him anything, that I could trust him. I did. And boy, did telling someone your feelings sure help you out in the long run. He told me how to help myself out, how to reinvent myself to get people to like me. It all helped, it really did, but I never put his plan into action. Well, okay, that's a lie. I didn't initiate his plan until he died."

He stops suddenly and we catch a glance from one another.

"I'm sorry, James."

He sighs and scoots closer to me.

It fucking made me think he was leaning into kiss me. How would you like that, a kiss from your enemy? Not to mention your first ever kiss?  
But, alas, not. He only started telling me his story again.

"I didn't know he was dying. Hell, I didn't even know the poor guy's name. I missed seeing him everyday, so I quit sneaking up during practice to talk to him. One day though, I just truly needed time alone. So I went up there. I found a note taped to the chair you're sitting on, actually. It had a woman's handwriting on it. If I remember correctly it said something like,_ 'Dear whoever takes the time to read this, Walter was stricken with a bout of cancer, straight on, stage four. He didn't know he was going to die, but he tried to make the best of it. He told me about a boy at the school multiple times, how the boy thought he didn't belong and how he was always upset. Walter didn't want the boy to live his life unhappily, so he began to help him. He wanted the boy to continue loving life like he did.'_"

That was when I really studied James.

He didn't really look like a tough guy anymore, really.

Just a sad, sad little fourteen year old boy.

And that hurt me.

Because I was just like him.

"So I decided to reinvent myself, like he directed me to. I pushed everyone back and became the new and improved James, one people could awe over and be astonished about. More importantly, I had to push you off the block. That's why I did it, Kendall."

Oh.

My.

Good.

God.

* * *

I was in complete and utter shock right there and then.

I still am.

* * *

"Kendall, did you hear me?"

I nod my head and he stands.

"Good. Now, wait at least ten minutes to come back downstairs. I made sure Carlos watched your things. And Kendall?" He says, slinging his backpack over his shoulder.

I look up and there's a cocky as fuck grin on his face. "Yes?"

"See you on the fucking ice later. Hope you enjoy getting your face smashed into the ice."

With that, all signs pointing to James Diamond being there were gone.

Except the clipped news article with my face on it.

That was the moment I blew up, knocking every thing I could see onto the ground, destroying his precious getaway.

Sitting here, writing, I realize what I did was horrible.

But at least we're making progress.

* * *

Oh shit, the bell rang. Will write about English and practice after school.


	4. Chapter 4

Just a short, condensed journal entry from Kendall's mixed up mind.

Hope you enjoy, haha. I'll have the real update up in a few days, hopefully!

* * *

You see, James Diamond isn't as bad as I'm making him out to be.

Actually, no, he's definitely worse.

Way, way worse.

You see, I am just like that kid. We're both sad individuals.

I'm sure by now you've noticed I'm trying hard not to tell you all what James did; it killed me, it really did.

Well, it almost did.

No, I know what you're thinking. He didn't go bat-shit crazy, releasing a fucking machete onto the eighth grade class.

No, it was more than that. He mentally tortured us, pulled us through the continuous ringer of Hell, and more than those, actually, his actions made me develop a teensy little crush on him.

A hate crush, I suppose.

So today I won't tell you the tale of James Diamond ruining my life, but I might soon. I might, it just really depends on how my own story panning out.

_First objective:_  
_Talk to Logan._

I might be crazy, but hell if I care.

I took a bathroom break to write this. I'm in English right now. My knees are wobbly and I just need time to think. My mind is jumbled and in my hand is a key.

The copy to the room. The fucking janitor's closet.

"Here," he said, that cocky smile back on his perfect face.

"Here's a key to peace and serenity."

I just had to get out of there.

Do you blame me?


	5. Chapter 5

So. I had no idea this chapter was going to be so long. Ha ha, "no idea" :-)

Well, I guess when Kendall has something to say, he REALLY does have something to say.

Major things happen in this chapter, I warn ya! MAJOR events.

Hope you all enjoy this piece of Kendall's on going journal, I certainly had the best time thinking this chapter up. In fact, I wrote this in under an hour in total completed time.

Thank you all once again for everything; all of you reviewing, favoriting, and alerting puts a huge ass smile on my face.

Read it and enjoy :)

* * *

_September 6th (In the locker rooms. Surprisingly still alive even after surviving English AND hockey tryouts- I must be magic)_

Are you there, God? It's me, Kendall. Of course, not really, because:

1. I am not trying to plagiarize Judy Blume's work and

2. I am an up-and-down agnostic.

Hell, might as well become an atheist after what happened today.

I might as well write as much as I can now. The dearest mother has not returned any of my calls or texts.

So anyways. I guess I'll tell you about English.

No, _wait_. I will attempt to tell you about English.

* * *

After managing to make it in my seat just as the bell rang, I calmly looked around the white room for James.

It was no luck, however, when my eyes made their way to his, watching him daintily stroll into the classroom, about a minute late.

I hate him.

He made his sweet time to the old hag's desk, slowly taking the brightly colored slip out of his pocket and dropping it on top or her blacklit keyboard.

"Hey, I'm sorry about the tardy," he said, with a sickeningly sweet tone.

"Oh? No, James, I'll count it as an excused. Anything for a grand student like you."

As he made his way back to my secluded corner, I wanted to yell out something, anything. Instead, I quickly imagined different scenarios that could have taken place.

Here are a few select pieces of dialogue:

_"Not fair there, you old hag!"_

_"If James has special rights than so should we!"_

_"Special rights for one, more like equal rights for all!"_

In all of my two second protests James ended up realizing how right I was and then we made the cautious yet correct decision to make out, right there and then in the classroom.

I hate him and his beautiful face, no, his beautiful _everything _even more.

* * *

My hormones really need to get their priorities straight. I'm sick of putting up with such shit.

Anyways, what was I writing?

Oh, oh yeah, how English class had turned out.

Ha. _Ha_. Ha.

* * *

"Hi Kendall," he whispered, although I knew it hurt him just to say hello to me.

His throat probably burned and his lungs were probably on fire. I can _totally_ dig that scene.

"Hi James," I reply gravely. There wasn't any need for fake niceness there, at that moment.

"Look," he cleared his throat as the old hag rang on and on, which made me want to throw a heavy object at her face. Repeatedly.

Rolling my eyes, I glare at him. "Yes, James?"

"I'm sorry."

Really?

Thinking about it now, he shouldn't have even played that card, that horrible, horrible card.

"For what?"

He looked at me like,_ 'Really? Are you sure you don't know what I'm talking about? Are you really all that stupid?'_

He's silent for a moment, and then finally, some words come out of his mouth in a jumble. "I'm sorry for being a dick to you and then being nice and then, I don't know, being a jerk again?"

* * *

I remember his face as he said this.

His usually rose tinted cheeks were drained and he just looked tired. Like a normal, average kid.

But really, why the fuck would I buy that?

* * *

"James, give me a reason to accept your apology," I mumbled a little softer than before, because a few pairs of eyes were now focused on us, including the old witch's. "Make it quick, though. You're attracting attention."

He lets out a unusually loud chuckle and I wonder if this was his plan all along, building me up to just knock me down, possibly destroying me in the process?

Probably.

"*I'm* the one attracting the attention, Kendall? Give it up. Your whiny ass is doing all the work. I'm just basking in the glory."

His hazel eyes are crinkled and I want to punch him right there, in between those smiling eyes. He wouldn't have that cocky smile perched on his face then, would he?

"Why exactly do I have to work with you?"

He shakes his head, his brown hair falling into his eyes. "I'm just great. You're lucky."

We then banter very intelligently back and forth until I remember:

1. Nothing about James is intelligent, whatsoever (Logan should be proud of my witty banter, though).

2. James never gave me a reason to accept his apology.

"No, stop talking," I harshly whisper, almost in a demanding tone.

"Why would I do that? I've been told I have an amazing speaking voice," and really, when doesn't James have a smile on his face?

"Remember, your apology? You know, that time you told me you were sorry, oh, maybe ten minutes ago? Can you give me a reason to accept it?"

It seems as if a light bulb flashed above his head, because he lets out a small 'oh'.

"I have something for you, Kendall. Just to make up for that," he announced quietly.

Here's the moment I am probably going to regret for the rest of my life. Why the fuck did I ask what? How stupid could I have been? I mean, really. I hate myself.

He then digs around in his pocket, pulling out a key.

Not his key.

The dull spare key I seemed to have forgotten he mentioned only an hour ago.

"Here," he said, that cocky smile back on his perfect face.

"What's that for?" I asked, suddenly shocked the mood had changed so quickly.

"This is a key, Kendall."

"No shit," I glared at him, hating him even more in just that mere second. "What's it for?"

"This here," he answers, "this is a specific key. Here's a key to peace and serenity."

That's the exact moment my guts came up and I had to get out of there.

"Hey," I raise my hand, my entire body shaking.

"Yes?" The old hag looks up from her desk, actually interested in what I had to say/ask.

"May I...May I use the restroom?"

Before she even answers, I grab my bag and hurry to the bathroom.

* * *

Which correlates to me in the bathroom, earlier.

But this was the longer version, and I'm sure you wanted this, instead.

I didn't make it back to the classroom before the bell rang.

Although, I'm sure, James most likely told the old hag I had mental issues.

I couldn't really tell from the look she gave me as I scurried past her down the stairs, to the hockey rink by the gym.

Oh hockey, marvelous, marvelous hockey.

How I hate thee.

* * *

"Listen up, princesses, Day 1 of hockey tryouts are going to fucking suck. I am just telling you now, before any of your sorry asses come up to me after practice and whine at me or even before your sorry asses complain to your loving parents and then I get chewed out by them. Have I made myself clear?" The coach speaks, loud and clear, to about 50 guys from the sad ninth grade kids all the way up to the repeat seniors.

* * *

The coach is an interesting guy.

He dressed in "tourist" attire, from sandals with socks to a Hawaiian shirt.

So glad he didn't bitch at me for my matching gray sweatsuit.

He looked about twenty times more ridiculous than I did, thank you very much.

Anyways.

* * *

Coach told us to be prepared for the ice, and also to be prepared to come in at a decent time.

That, of course, is when James showed up.

Always fashionably late, he is.

"Nice to see you, Mr. Diamond," Coach called out before continuing.

"Anyways, I was saying, before little miss princess rudely joined us ten minutes after practice had begun, hockey is a tough sport. Hockey is probably going to be your mortal enemy by the time you manage to get yourself kicked off the team."

I'm not the only one who snickered at 'mortal enemy', thank God.

"You guys are in for the long run, I hope. You best not hate me by the time we're done, I hope again. If you do then you are stupid. Plain and simple."

He then drones on and on about the principles of hockey, how to conduct the game, and how tryouts are done.

Then someone calls out that they "just wanna fuckin' play the game, Coach".

The coach then claps his hands together and grins mischievously. "Then let's start this baby."

* * *

Surprisingly enough, I made it through the skating drills, you know, just skating back and forth and figure eights. That kind of eventful shit.

Then the timed drills.

Needless to say, I'm a fucking beast at hockey.

* * *

That was about the time when all the rejects were sent home and only the good were left out on the ice.

"Come on, Coach! Let's scrimmage."

And so we did.

* * *

The chants of teenage boys droned through my brain, making me love the sport even more.

Although I was plenty tired already, I had no willingness to give up or sit out.

My breaths were getting heavier and heavier, I just wanted this day to be over.

Nope. Not happening.

* * *

We were split into teams.

James, of course, was one of the team's captains.

He also made it his duty to not even look at me.

What a dick.

* * *

I ended up on a team with more freshmen and sophomores than anyone else.

We, the freshmen, had no idea what we were doing. It was up to the more experienced sophomores and juniors to show us the ropes, only moments before the makeshift game was to go on.

James' team was full of seniors, go figure.

I never hated him as much as I hated him then.

"Okay, team," a junior whose name has escaped me chirped. "We're going to win!"

Everyone else began cheering, but I just looked at them. "Really? We're going to win? How optimistic and truthful. Not."

Do I even have to mention they glared at me the rest of the night?

After I released a few more remarks, it was then when they decided I was to go up against the other team's center, who just so happened to be James.

_Just _my luck, right?

* * *

Number of times James had managed to knock me down: 7.

Number of times he wasn't supposed to: 7.

Number of times I felt completely and wrongly turned on: 8 (Counting first count off and watching him come up to the center line).

It's pretty much conflicting, I know.

I'm supposed to hate him.

Yet, I don't. Kind of. It's complicated.

But when an attractive boy in laying on top of you, breathing heavily, with his hair matted to his forehead and his pupils dilated, what are you supposed to do? Blow it off, like you're some kind of cool stud? I think not.

* * *

The only thing I heard while skating to the locker room was, "Way to go, Knight. Cost us the fucking scrimmage. You fucking suck."

The funny thing is, Coach encouraged them to say this.

I hate life.

* * *

But at least now I'm all comfy-cozy after showering and stretching out here, writing in my journal.

Shit, I hear someone. Talk to you later, journal.

Or should I say, _write? ;)_

* * *

_September 6th (At home. Major news! I'm literally awestruck in a good and bad way. Don't know what to think. Remind me to call Logan)._

So you know how someone was still in the locker rooms after I had thought no one was there?

Turned out it was James (go figure).

He looked at me, and I looked at him, and it was really awkward.

**James:** Sorry for pushing you down so many times out there.

**Me:** (laughing nervously) You're still here?

**J:** I was about ready to leave, and then I noticed you were still here. Pretty generous of Coach not to offer you a ride home.

**Me:** No, he did.

**J:** Then why are you still here?

**Me:** I'm waiting for my mom.

**J: **Lame, Kendall, lame as fuck.

**Me:** I'm hungry. Fuck you.

**J:** You still wanna wait here all alone? It's getting late. I could give you a ride.

That's when all those alarms began ringing in my head. James Diamond, being nice? Impossible!

**Me: **What do you mean? Waiting with you, for YOUR mom? No thanks.

**J:** I'm driving, actually. Don't be a chicken.

**Me:** Totally safe, a fourteen year old boy driving someone home? So safe.

**J:** You sure?

**Me:** No, I totally want a ride. Maybe when we crash I can get money.

**J: **Really? For what?

**Me:** Compensation for the damage you permanently caused to my fragile teenage mind.

**J: **Bullshit.

* * *

I wouldn't be totally lying when I say I had a fun ride home.

I was having a lot of fun, actually, until he had pulled up into my driveway.

"It was cool driving you home," he said a little awkwardly.

"You too," I said back, kicking myself in the nuts mentally.

"So," he tapped on the steering wheel.

It was suddenly very strange. We were both silent.

I nodded my head and turned to him, opening my mouth to say my thanks again.

I didn't expect him to dart over and kiss me.

I didn't expect me to kiss back.

I didn't expect tongue.

I didn't expect me to like it.

I didn't expect him to have unbearably soft lips and soft hair and a mouth that tasted like peppermint.

I didn't expect to wrap my arms around him.

I didn't expect to entangle my fingers through that caramel hair.

I didn't expect us to break apart at all.

I didn't expect Katie to open the door just to say, "Busted."

I didn't expect James' cheeks to be that red.

I didn't expect my heart to be beating that fast.

When we finally stopped kissing, when Katie had ran inside, I take a deep breath and say,

"I didn't expect that."

He blushes once more and I quickly peck his lips before darting inside.

I haven't the slightest idea what to do next.


	6. Chapter 6

I'm so sorry that this chapter is so short, but I promise you that there will be more to this night's entry.

This, in fact, just came to me like that. Poof, there it is. Took me about ten minutes.

I hope you guys enjoy. Or whatever you all do best :P

I guarantee by the end of this chapter/segment that you won't know whether to love or hate Kendall.

Thanks once again, guys!

* * *

_September 6th (Later in the night, after shit went down, and when I say 'shit' I mean that Katie wouldn't stop questioning me. After dinner, to be exact. Still not sure what to think of this situation)._

How should I start this entry?

Should I start it with, "Yeah, I was caught in the middle of a make out session by my preteen sister who is pretty good at that blackmail thing?"

Or even the good ol' one liner, "I hate my life and every single thing about it."

Okay, yeah, how's a mix of those sound?

You see, I'm at least 87% certain that Katie had gotten it, or just a few seconds of it, on tape.

Which screwed me over both ways- our mother, our dearest mother, would believe her word of mouth over mine any day of the week, and _video_ evidence? The _perfect_ cherry on the sundae of hell. Ha ha ha.

* * *

Fine, I'll tell you what happened after I rushed inside.

-My heart rate was probably skyrocketing and through the roof. I couldn't believe what happened was real but I knew then because:

1. I locked myself in the bathroom and flung myself into the bathtub.

2. I barely managed to retrieve my notebook from my backpack before Katie began screaming and banging on the door, stating "that if I didn't open the door right this instant, I would be drowning in that hole I dug myself" and "that she was going to get to the bottom of this and tell every word to our mother!"

3. The very taste of James was still fresh on my lips and tongue and his cologne was filling my nose with pleasant memories.

Anyways.

That's when I wrote what happened out there, in his car.  
It took me a while.

I don't think Katie's lungs could work that long, but they did.

For some time, though, everything was silent, and the only thing I could hear was the scraping of my pencil across the wide ruled sheet of paper.

I was in the middle of writing a note or a letter of some sorts to James when the front door opened.

I could hear the chirp of my mother's voice, and the dark tone strewn through Katie's, which, of course, my mother didn't pick up. But isn't that, like, always?

* * *

I might as well tell you what the letter said. It might clear a few things up (for James, ha ha ha). Also, I used the best handwriting I could harness without the shakiness being too upfront, and not this chicken scratch I use in my journal. Kudos for you, Kendall. Here goes.

_Hi James (Is that too informal?)_  
_You might hate me, and that's okay._  
_I hate you too. Well, at least I thought I did._  
_My feelings for you aren't all that clear at the moment._  
_I never would have expected that, honestly. Never in a million years._  
_Don't get me wrong, it was a very pleasant surprise._  
_And a nice ending to a nice day._  
_I think I feel as if this is the start of a friendship, _  
_but maybe not a healthy one?_  
_I really don't know, James._  
_I just... I don't know._  
_I like the real you, the one who told me about the kind janitor who helped you in the midst of shitty kids._  
_The one in the locker room._  
_Not the jerk in English, or everywhere else for that matter._  
_I hope you aren't mad with me, and I hope you take into consideration that after you kissed me, I was in shock- I had no other instinct than to hightail it out of there._  
_I have no idea what possessed you to do that, but..._  
_I hope you don't regret it._  
_I just want to talk to you, to ask you some things._  
_Is that too much to ask, right now for the most part?_  
_See you at lunch._  
_Thanks for reading. Or whatever._  
**_-Kendall Knight, you know. "That one guy."_**

* * *

Wait, after rereading that again for the ninth time in five minutes, I think it makes me sound a little vain.

Does it?

As I was telling you, I was writing the above letter when I heard a gentle knock on the door.

* * *

It was my mother, and she just wanted to know what was wrong.

So I got up and let her in, crawling back in the bathtub while she perched herself delicately on the rug covered toilet seat.

Needless to say, by the end of our little session, I was spewing out those tears like it was nothing.

It was funny though, she didn't get the whole story. Not even half.

Here's the gist of what I told her: A pretty boy kissed me out of the blue and my emotions got the best of me.

That's it, basically.

What a tearjerker.

* * *

Thinking about it, I just told her I was gay. I mistakenly came out to her then. Shit. So much for a real, genuine coming out party.

The last thing she said to me after getting up and smoothing my hair back?

"Dinner's your choice tonight, my little precious baby boy."

I guess being a guy has its perks, right?

So dinner rolls around and I wasn't in the mood for shit from Katie.

As we sat down with our meals from _Chez_ McDonald's, the first thing to come out of her mouth was, "Are you gay?"

When I shrugged in answer format, she was still persistent.

"Answer my question!"

Does she know that there's a lot more to this situation that just being gay?

"Yes, Katie. I am so gay. I am so gay for little emo guys but my heart throbs for those muscle men. Praise the lord, hallelujah!"

My mother wasn't too impressed with my monotone answer, but Katie thought it was pretty ace. So I guess making my little sister laugh was good.

"What's his name?" Her brown eyes were wide with anticipation.

"Why would you need to know that?"

"I need to put 'Kendall Loves Blank' notes in your room, to make you smile."

With that, I blushed, nibbling on a French fry to stall answering.

"Kendall, answer. Or else I'll beat you up."

I looked up at her at that, and I knew she was serious. I sighed, knowing I was defeated. "His name is James."

Katie hissed with happiness but I couldn't bear to look at my mother. She gasped at this new found information and I'm sure she knew who it was.

* * *

No, make that, I was pretty positive she knew exactly who it was.

That's pretty much when she asked me.

"You mean, James? Jamie Diamond, from the hockey team? Brooke's little son?"

Her own eyes were wide and I solemnly nodded.

"Oh, oh Kendall."

So it continued on, Katie barking out questions and demanding answers within seconds. The makeshift interrogation went on for a good forty-five minutes, but by then, I had enough.

And that is exactly what I yelled to my poor sister.

"Shut the fuck up, Katie! I'm so sick of your shit, and your dumb questions. You need to know when to drop the subject. So just leave. Me. Alone."

* * *

With that, I retreated to my room, a good three-fourths of my meal still in its little carton.

But hey, at least I didn't have to do dishes!

I need something to make my life disappear. So much for reinventing myself in high school.

Reinventing myself? Oh, you mean, making my life so shitty it's impossible to stand?

Yeah, me too.

Oh, joy. Logan is calling.

I'll write later, journal. Peace out.


	7. Chapter 7

Well. I said I would update today.

It might not be good, but it's just a filler chapter.

A short, short filler chapter.

Shit goes down in the next chapter.

Thanks guys, for everything you do :)

* * *

_September 6th (Later in the night, after I spoke to Logan and surprisingly enough, James too. Now THAT was a complete shock. In bed, on the verge of sleepy times.)_

I guess I have to pick up where I left off, wasn't it when Logan called me?

Right, right.

Here we go.

* * *

"Hi," he said a little quickly, immediately after I answered.

"Hey friend. Didn't see you at hockey tonight." I knew what he was going to say. Some shit excuse about a club, you know, because he is a popular sophomore with a loser freshman friend?

"About that. I quit hockey."

I remember my stomach dropping and the burning of my throat as I let a sigh escape. It shouldn't have bothered me, but now I realized why it did: it was our thing, the thing that made us best friends. Without that, how were we going to continue getting along so well?

When in reality, our friendship was damaged to begin with.

"Really? Why?" A hoarse whisper. Anger pumping through my veins.

"No biggie, Kendall. It just wasn't for me. Besides, there's this cute girl in my drama class who asked me to join the club... and it's the opposing days from when my math club meets. I couldn't pass that up, could you?" He chuckled and I contemplated the idea of not even telling him.

It was silent for a while, and then he broke the loud, loud silence. "What's up with you?"

"Nothing."

Lie.

After.

Lie.

After.

Fucking.

Lie.

Well, I guess that's life.

We argue back and forth until he seethes through a closed mouth, "Kendall. Tell. Me. What. The. Fuck. Is. Wrong."

Finally, I told him.

"James kissed me," I released a deep sigh.

"What?!" I could imagine his eyebrows raising and his mouth in the shape of an 'o'.

"Yeah."

"What happened?"

So I told him.

And I took my time. It took up some minutes, I'll tell you that.

He threatened to beat him up.

_Nope, I told him. James is too special._

_Nope, I said. Maybe I really liked it._

_Nope, I blushed, remembering the soft lips placed against my own._

I began daydreaming again, only to have Logan snap me out of my daze.

"What are you going to say to him?"

That struck me right in my chest. I frankly had no idea. "Give him a note?"

I heard him scoff, probably rolling his eyes in the same moment. "Kendall, I am your best friend, and James certainly knows that. Wouldn't he be suspicious of me handing him a note from you? Wouldn't he know you talked to me about it?"

I scoffed at this.

"Logan, are you sure? James isn't all that intelligent."

"Still, I am not so sure."

"Fine," I said, giving up.

We say our goodbyes and I wasn't expecting anything else to happen then, after that conversation.

* * *

So I was lying in my bed, on the brink of sleep, when my phone started to ring.

Actually, no. Another damned lie. I was sleeping pretty well.

Of course, any obnoxious Blink-182 song could wake you up from nearly anything, so as pissed off as I was, I sat up slowly and grabbed my phone.

It was an unknown number, either a wrong number from another state looking for their long lost cousin or an unlisted number.

I was assuming the unlisted number spiel was the correct situation.

I was so, so right.

* * *

"Hello?" I grumbled, looking at the illuminated numbers, the bright green numbers mocking me and my life.

**_10:26._**

I just wanted to sleep, didn't anyone get that?

"Hi," a disgruntled voice replied.

"Who is this?" I wasn't curious, I just wanted to get off the phone.

"Who are you?" I could hear nervous giggling.

"Look, I'm not in the mood. Just, if you decide to call again, can you make sure you call at a decent time? It's late, and I'm kind of tired."

The person coughs and says my name and his apologies, only a little harshly. "Kendall. Look. I am sorry."

Of course, all along I knew it was James.

I am sure you did too.

I suck at that whole foreshadowing thing.

You know that by now, don't you?

* * *

"James?"

"Yep."

"I can't deal with this shit right now."

With that, my thumb trembles over the 'end call' button, but James letting out a gasp makes me hesitate.

"Kendall, just... I'll pick you up for school tomorrow."

I know I shouldn't have been snarky, but... I had the right to be, right?

"Are you sure you aren't gonna try and get up all on me again, James?"

I definitely didn't have the right to be snarky and rude, revident by his cough.

"I'm going to ignore that."

I focused on my ceiling and those pretty neat stick-on glow in the dark stars instead of the person on the line.

At that moment I just wanted to die, slowly and painfully.

Maybe I'll call him back and suggest it?

Oh, yeah, back to the call.

"I'm sorry, James," I muttered.

"Oh, and Kendall?" His voice raised in pitch and my stomach dropped in happiness. Dammit.

"Yeah?"

"I hope you sleep well. Sweet dreams, and I'll see you tomorrow morning."

"James?"

"Yeah?" I imagined him laying in his bed, just like me, but with an unusually large smile placed on his face instead of this scowl I had on my face.

"What time are you picking me up, you know, if you still want to?"

* * *

Some silence, and all I heard was static for a good five minutes.

"Is 7:30 okay?"

I nod, but I realized he couldn't see me.

"That's good... I'm sorry for being such a jerk."

"No, Kendall. We're both to blame. But you know I am probably going to keep up with the tough guy facade for right now, right?

That got me thinking.

"What are we?"

He mumbles something but I couldn't make it out for anything. When I asked again, he stutters a short, "friends."

Which, I suppose, is better than enemies.

"Good night, friend."

"Same to you," he giggled.

I have to get to sleep now, but I hope I remember to behave for James tomorrow.

I still want to hate him, though. Doesn't that make me a bad person?

I am just really confused.

To say the least.

Deuces, journal. Will write tomorrow.


	8. Chapter 8

Wow, belated! I am so sorry about this.

And sorry if this is crap...

Plot twist time ;)

* * *

_September 10th (I...I have no idea where I am right now. Where we are. All I know is James is driving in the middle of the day and I'm sitting in the passenger's seat, writing.)_

"What's up with you?" He asks, glancing over at me, and then focusing his eyes on my hand, which is failing to cover the entire page.

Shit.

"What's up with you? And Jamie, eyes on the road. I don't want to die."

He shakes his head and looks back to the still-empty interstate. "I don't know about you, Kendall. I really don't."

I smirk and as quick as I can, reply with all the wit I muster up. "Huh. I assumed you knew everything there was to know about little old me after kidnapping said guy this weekend. You never know, though. I could be drastically different than the person you had the chance to be with this weekend."

A smile slowly creeps up that tan face and he taps the steering wheel. "Not what I was going for there, sir. Just wanted to know why you are so desperately connected to that silly notebook. Are you writing your future memoir?"

He lays that beautiful smile on me again and I roll my eyes, continuing to write down the conversation.

"If you must know, it's my journal."

"Really? Fascinating. Tell me more."

I open my mouth yet hesitate. "I'd rather not," I say, sighing.

"I'd probably fall asleep while you explained the concept to me, anyways. Actually, no. That's not the truth. I'd only really fall asleep if you told me there wasn't anything written about me in there."

I nod.

"You're right, you're oh so correct. Just a lame journal, nothing outrageous here."

Chuckle.

Nervous laugh.

Fuck.

He sweeps his hair from his face and I suddenly wonder if I look like a caveman by this point, after hours in a car so close to the other person you could probably be able to feel their ass sweat.

Hopefully not.

But he, oh does he look good.

How the fuck does he manage looking hot all the time?

"So, Kendall. If your mom somehow finds out about our trip, what are you going to say?"

He breaks the almost comfortable silence, and I shrug, watching the endless grasses pass us by.

The sky's gray and I want it to rain, but they say South Dakota is in a drought.

Right, about that.

Just kidding. James is looking for an answer. Better say just a few words.

"Oh," I pace myself, "I don't quite think she would, actually."

"What?"

He sounds surprisingly interested.

Shit.

"Uh, well, I always used to spend days over at Logan's house, and whenever there was a four day weekend like there just was, I'd go over there and she wouldn't worry, as long as I called her nightly. Which, I did. Right?!"

I widen my eyes and cover my mouth with fear. "Did I forget to call last night, James?"

He ponders my question for a moment, and in the process, I drop my pencil and notebook beneath the seat of the ultra small sports car.

Did I mention it was a sports car?

After a flurry of cuss words (but finally retrieving my beloved writing utensil and journal; "Goddammit, James! Fucking answer ME!), James answers me.

"Yeah. You did. Don't worry."

Good.

I sigh a little over dramatically.

Only a little.

"Okay," I take a deep breath, "Then really, she has no real need to worry."

He shrugs. "I'd worry."

I glare at him.

"Well, you didn't specify if you wanted my own opinion or not!"

"I thought I made that clear!"

If Katie were here right now, her little "OTP" signs would be strewn through the car, and that makes me laugh.

I could just imagine her saying, "Look, my one true pair is having their first disagreement! How cute!"

I actually miss the little twerp.

"Kendall?"

James' voice brings me out of my thoughts, and I look up, realizing I was buried deep into my journal.

"Yeah?"

"Okay, you weren't listening. I was just saying how much I enjoyed this weekend."

I giggle. "Me too," and then suddenly specific thoughts fluttered through my mind, making me blush.

"I hope you won't be in trouble with your mom."

I don't think of the words before I say them.

I don't think- period.

"I hope I don't get sent back to JDC again," and oh wait, look, there's Kendall shoving his foot back in his mouth.

James releases a deep breath and looks away from me, looking back at the road.

Oh, Kendall. When will you learn?

You're a goddamn idiot.

"James," I plead, laying a hand on jacket.

"I'm sorry."

"James, listen to me."

"James, I didn't mean it."

"James, stop it! Just look at me, so I know everything is okay! I'm so sorry."

But finally, I stop myself from going overboard. And instead focus on my journal.

Might as well tell you what happened.

I'll probably be dead any moment now, by the looks of his driving skills.

The greatest weekend of my life.

It didn't even need to be a four day deal.

I just... liked being with him.

So you know how he told me he was picking me up at 7:30 the next morning?

Well.

The next morning, the ever so amazing September 7th, was a Saturday.

Miraculously enough, my mom had gone into work early, leaving only me and Katie (Katie and I- shut up. It's my journal, I do what I want.) to fend for ourselves.

I was eating Fruity Pebbles when he arrived.

"Hey," he breathed, putting a hand on my door as soon as I opened it.

"What's your plan, Diamond?" I squinted at him while he panted.

"Get a bag. Pack it. Get a big bag."

I rolled my eyes, stiffing back a cruel laugh. "Such strong, powerful, and not to mention, well-educated sentences for you, Jamie!"

"Fuck you," he hits my leg at this point, grinning. "I'm panting because I ran up here. I was out of breath."

"So what exactly do I need a bag for?"

"Pack enough clothes for like three days. Your toiletries, too."

Pushing past me, he made himself at home on my couch.

"What the hell?"

He shook his head. "Don't even start questioning me, Knight. Chop chop, we're on a schedule. Oh, and tell Mitchell he's covering for you."

I slant my eyes once more. "What exactly is going on, James?"

"You'll see. Let's go, get a move on."

"What about my sister?"

"What about her?"

"What if she finds out?"

"She'll think it was a romantic getaway. Now turn and run up those stairs."

I had no idea what was in store for me, but I knew one thing-

I was excited as fuck.

"So I left a note for Katie and my mom, and arranged the deal with Logan," I said, throwing the red canvas bag at him.

"Is that her name?"

"Who?"

"Your sister, Katie? What a nice name. By the way, you're a dumbass."

"I'll be sure to tell her you said that if we get back."

With that, I realized he was looking at me weird.

"When," I reassured him then (but also, quite possibly, myself included), thinking it through, and he just nodded his head in understanding.

"You ready?" He stood up slowly, grabbing the bag.

"Are you?"

"I am if you are."

"Then I most certainly am."

And so, we were off.

* * *

And I was loving that glorious, glorious thrill that came with lying.

But it wasn't as if I were an angel.

Ha. Ha. Ha. Hilarious.

"So, where exactly are we going?" I felt myself shake as I buckled myself in, my heartbeat probably way above average at that moment.

"South Dakota," he replied just like that, quick and firm.

"What?!"

I remember my veins were probably popping out of my neck by then.

Oh, South Dakota, how my fondest memories are in you.

Ha ha ha ha ha, funny.

Reminds me of something. ;)

And no, we didn't have sex, you idiots.

Anyway.

* * *

"Yeah, actually. Nine hours until we hit their second biggest town, Rapid. I think it's called that? I'm not sure. Maybe if you'd like to Google it..."  
He shrugged and by that time I wanted to strangle and kill the bastard.

"You think?! James. This isn't safe."

"No backing out," he smiled, dusting off the gray dashboard.

"Why that specific town?"

"I don't know. But you should still whip out that cell phone of yours and look it up."

"JAMES."

"Chill out, we'll go sight seeing. And we'll have fun. You need it."

"I have no money."

"I'll pay for you, don't you worry 'bout that, honey."

With that, he winked and took off.

I instantly gained a thousand percent spike in hate for him right then.

* * *

Yay, cliffhangers all around! I'm sorry that this is so short, but I promise I have some more of their little road trip to tell you guys all about!

I hope you enjoyed.


	9. Chapter 9

Hey guys! Long time no see.

Well, firstly, I have been pretty busy at school, and secondly, I'm just lazy. Oops.

Thus producing neglectfulness in my writing.

To be fair, I get bored easily.

I didn't even touch this chapter up until last week, so I hope I didn't leave out any major details or sequences in the plot! If this doesn't make sense, please tell me, I would love for feedback especially after this long.

I barely skimmed the other chapters beforehand, only because I forgot what had happened previously!

I hope you all aren't _super _mad at me. Please don't assume I forgot about posting!

I''m going to be posting a lot more frequently, especially now that I'm in a writing kick again (thank goodness that writer's block is over!). You guys should be expecting at least three or four (if not more) new and LONGER chapters by Christmas, and maybe even something special on the holiday itself.

And now, please sit back, relax, and enjoy the chapter.

* * *

_September 10th (Later, closer to home than before. That is, before we stopped for dinner. McDonald's, anyone?)._

"Are you still mad at me, James? I... I didn't mean to bring that up." I glance at the tan boy before looking down at my sandwich, my stomach churning in time to my heart beat.

He opens his mouth, making my eyes jet back up to those perfect pink lips just by the sound of him inhaling.

"No, Kendall. I'm not. It just caught me off-guard." He takes a fry and flings it at me, making me laugh.

"Alright then, thanks for the clarification, I guess."

My hand's moving too slow for everything that comes next.

"You know what, Kendall? I only blamed you for everything because I was jealous of you. And I really shouldn't have... You were just so easy to become jealous of. You had it all. I didn't. That pissed me off. And when you went to the correction center... I knew I could finally achieve greatness, even if it meant ruining life for you. I thought that up until this year, you know, when the old hag paired us up. Then I got to know you this weekend, and I found out I really liked you and everything I did that was wrong rushed back to me and it hit me- I should have been in your place."

He picks up a fry and dips it in ketchup, but sets in back in the carton while continuing to observe me.

"I want to know you, Kendall. I want to get to know the real you, not the school Kendall, or the family Kendall, or even Logan's Kendall. I want to know what pisses you off to your extremes, what makes you smile, and mostly, I want to know why you even gave me the light of day."

I take a deep breath and lock in with those brilliant hazel eyes.

I try to figure out what I'm going to say, how I'm even going to say it.

Instead, I use my old standby.

And flee to the bathroom.

Like always, though, James is quick to follow.

"Open up," he says, banging against the barely locked door.

"I can't."

My voice is hoarse and raspy but I don't care.

He sighs and turns sharply, his shoes probably leaving a scuff mark.

"If you need me,"

and then comes the brisk opening of the door,

"I'll be in the car."

I close my journal and stand.

This will be hell.

_September 10th (Silence overpowering the car. Once again.)_

"Please talk to me, Jamie. Please."

All I hear is the humming coming from his mouth, making me smile.

"Please."

And then he turns towards me, knocking me out with the look I've seen quite a few times this weekend. I don't know how to place it- the intensity of his eyes compared to the smooth lines of his lips- impossible to describe.

"Can we talk?" I plead once more, hoping that this time would be the trick.

He shrugs, changing lanes, then pulling into a rest stop. "Do you want to?"

Rest stop.

_Yes._

Fucking yes.

"Pull over there."

As he does, I can't believe myself.

I can't believe I'm pulling the two of us into the back seat.

I can't believe how fast my lips are on his and how fast I could take his breath away.

The rest is history.

Just kidding.

After our little make out session was over and done with, I decided to finally tell you all what happened.

Here we are. I have it written down. On a napkin. That was unfolded. Anyways.

_September 7th (Late afternoon- James finally arrives at said destination. Could have kissed him out of happiness)._

I guess I should skip to the part where James schmoozed a girl to get us a hotel room.

I guess I should tell you I was jealous.

Let's go.

* * *

"This is it?" I'm asking, although I don't believe it. We're stopped in front of a fancy hotel, you know the kind, the script on the placement sign of the hotel illegible, swirls and twists and cursive- _everywhere._

"Yep," he grunts a little while putting his shiny, gray sports car into "Park". "You want to wait here or come in with me?"

To do what?

_What_ exactly are you implying to me, James?!

I sit there as stiff as a stone while he unbuckles his seat belt (well, at least he has SOME safety).

"I take that as a no?" He brushes my hand and I drift away from my daydream, filled to the brim with kisses and promises that I'd never get from him.

I mumble something inaudible while examining the tinted black windows of the assumed lobby. Shit, this place was fancy.

"You want to come with? Or stay here? Your choice, my friend." His hand grasps the door handle, and I do the same.

"I guess I'll come with, yeah." My grip on the door handle is so strong that my knuckles are turning white. Dammit.

He laughs uneasily as I slow release my grip, my fingers turning back to fleshy pink, vibrant and noticeable against the gray door boards.

He pats my shoulder as I get out, and I realize I'm not good enough for this.

Evident by my worn out plaid shirt and ripped jeans, compared to his leather jacket and presumed designer jeans.

I still haven't figured out whether his jacket, so shiny and new, is pleather or the real genuine cow hide.

* * *

"I don't think this place cards," James mumbles as he pulls his compact wallet out of his back pocket. "Luckily, I have my charming good looks to cover if they do."

I laugh, making him do the same.

"Sure, that's it. You're a pretty handsome guy."

He begins to scoff, but stops after he realizes what I said.

"You- you think I'm handsome?"

Yes. Totally. You're heart stopping. Bitches love you. Bitches line up just to see you at lunch. Bitches think you're theirs. Bitches don't know you're mine.

Ha ha ha, bitches be funny.

I answer with a simple "yep", making him grin all the same.

* * *

"How should I approach this girl?" He's thumbing through the crisp bills, making me only a little angrier than usual.

"The manager? The girl at the counter?"

I look at her from where we are, and immediately I'm jealous.

She looks a little young for this job, maybe her dad owns the place or something.

She's blonde, that honey blonde shade all the girls would die for, damaging their hair in the process to become lovable.

I _must_ be gay, goodness me.

She's tiny and perky- eye candy _and_ arm candy, huh? Not my type, even if I was attracted to women.

At least James didn't drool at the first sight of her.

I shrug at look back at him. "Not that hot," I cough back whatever is rising from my throat, "Just use your usual charm."

"Positive?"

"She'll love you."

He gives me that awful too-much teeth grin and boasts proudly as he walks.

I follow, slumming behind in his shadow, my feet scuffling along the dark gray tiled floor.

* * *

"Hey, I'd like a room here."

Loud and up-front, yet too much.

"Sure, with what money?" She looks us up and down and deals out a cocky smile.

Flashing the wad of bills in his hand, he leans in closer to her. "All yours, babe."

That voice.

Swoon.

She only rolls her eyes, snapping her gum in the process. "What are you, like, ten?"

"No, I am not ten! Who do you take me for? This isn't right, I have the money! Just give me the stupid room, puh-leeeeeeeeeeeeeez."

Ten more minutes of that shit and she finally gave him the room.

Did I say he schmoozed that girl?

I meant he pretty much _begged_ for the damn room.

* * *

"It's nice, isn't it?" He drops his final bag on the couch and smiles.

"Very nice," I add, albeit confused as to why there is only one bed. I decide not to ask.

He rolls his eyes at me and points at me. "You're a dork," he cackles, his laugh drifting throughout the suite.

"No, you are, James. Pretty dorky of you how you got this room for us." I reach over and pick up the TV guide for channels.

"What do you wanna watch?" He asks me suddenly, ripping it from my hands and flopping on the bed. "I call dibs on MTV."

"Of course you would," I replied, hesitantly perching on the end of the floral comforter, "Only you would, Jamie. That, or ESPN."

He blushes. "I'm a diverse guy, what can you expect?"

A giggle escapes my lips.

He sits up and pulls me beside him, by my shirt collar.

"We're going to have so much fun, Kendall. I can almost taste it."

James' breath is hot on my face and I seem to blush, making him pull me in even closer.

"Are you going to have fun?" His eyes are bright and focused, watching my every move.

When we're this close, I can see his pores.

I'm not surprised by the fact that, yes, they're clear as can be.

"Yes, I think so."

"You think?!"

"Yes, I know?"

"Better," he whispers, and as his arms wrap around my neck, he leans in close.

"You better have fun."

With that, he places his lips against mine and I suddenly hate him even more.

* * *

Their adventures are still coming. I'm in the process of writing the next chapter as we speak! I just like where I ended this segment. (:

Please reviewww! I will love you forever and forever if you do.

(I'm also going to be posting a lot more soon; I just needed time to think and time for a break.)


	10. Chapter 10

Just a short drabble to hold you all over until I finish the real chapter. Think of it as a deleted scene.

Also: I'm sorry for making you all wait for six months on this, ahhh. I needed a break with everything, I was really busy and I didn't know where this story was going to go.

Thank you for being patient with me and I hope you enjoy it. If you like this little outtake, let me know. It's nice writing something short once in a while. :)

Enjoy!

* * *

_September 7th (Close to midnight, can't catch a wink of sleep)_

There are some things you don't put into a journal.

Things you can't fathom into real words, your true thoughts that are so jumbled it isn't funny.

So instead, you put them into a another journal.

You have to stay true to your creative medium.

I've written and thought of everything you could ever imagine, but some of it is for my own indulgences.

Some people just don't get it; showing them won't matter.

You have to be comfortable with your work before you show others.

This isn't for James' pleasure, nor Logan's, definitely not for Katie's pleasure.

My journal is for my own pleasure, but I'm sure people would want to hear my words sooner than later.

That's why I want to publish my journal. Not now, of course, but soon.

I want to be heard.

* * *

_September 7th (3:28AM, reminiscent of my encounter with Katie just a few short days ago.)_

I'm laying on the cold floor with a really bright mini flashlight in my hand, trying to write down everything that comes to mind.

They say you're only happy when you have someone to cuddle with. They just don't tell you how to feel when that certain someone is hogging the bed, drooling up a storm.

Looking at James, I realize he has one flaw: he snores.

Which, isn't so bad, I suppose. He'll get by with one flaw. ;)

* * *

_September 8th (Closer to sunrise. Still no sleep. I hate myself.)_

Every time I lay my eyes on him, my heart flutters.

He's sweet, wonderful, and dumb. He's too perfect and sometimes I'm wondering why he chose me.

He could have any he would want, but yet he's stuck with me.

It's so unreal, having someone to be happy with.

I feel so cheesy when I say it, but there's moments when I imagine my life without his smiling face.

I think I may be...

No. I can't begin to come up with words for it.

Nope. Won't say it. Not here. Not in my journal.

Instead, I close my eyes and think of another land.

Somewhere peaceful.

I'm almost asleep a few minutes later but all of a sudden I hear a voice.

"Kendall?" His voice is hoarse and the bed is squeaking.

Damn. Talk to you later, journal.

* * *

_September 8th (Breakfast- finally, I had some sleep)_

Here's what happened (quickly, I may add) before I fell asleep.

"Yeah?" I sit up and search for his eyes in the dark.

"Why aren't you up here, with me?" There's a hint of a smile in his voice. I think of the smile and shudder with happiness.

"Hold on," I say quietly, standing up and making my way to the bed.

His hand grabs mine as soon as I sit, making me laugh a little.

"Hi James," I grin, our faces touching.

"Hey," he whispers, pressing his utterly soft lips to mine.

That's the moment I fell deeply into love with him.

I may be wrong, but at least I'm in a good place.

* * *

review? :)


	11. Chapter 11

That last chapter was a terrible filler. Hopefully this makes up for it! :)

Without further ado, I present to you, Chapter 11 of "I'm Quite Aware We're Dying"!

PS: I bolded something special. :-)

Enjoy!

* * *

_September 7th (Later. Much, much later- around eleven o'clock)_

There's nothing better than laying in someone's lap, soaking in the perfect silence. That is, until you change the channel on the TV to Lifetime.

"James, do you ever wonder why Lifetime movies seem so fake? I mean, aren't they all supposed to be based off of real events?"

I'm curious, alright? _Sheesh_, journal. Don't judge me.

He smiles, and runs a hand through my hair before replying.

"Think of it this way, Kendall. We're two fourteen year old guys from Minnesota just chumming it up in western South Dakota. We could probably get arrested right now, if the cops were really that bored with their jobs."

I sit up from his lap and roll my eyes. "You're an _idiot_," I giggle, kissing his cheek. He turns his face towards me and sticks out his tongue, making me giggle even harder.

"You're the idiot, actually. Watching Lifetime movies on your own time? Not for me." With that, he gets up and stretches.

"Please," I scoff at him as I roll the soft bedspread between my fingers. "You wouldn't want to see a bunch of girls at school concoct a pact for having kids at age sixteen? I _totally_, like, would."

He seems to consider this possibility and shrugs, grinning. "I never thought of it that way, in all honesty. That would be weird," he concludes, bending down to unzip a bag.

"They should make a Lifetime movie about us," I propose, watching him take out his pajamas and stand.

James notices me watching him, making him laugh.

"Do I have something on my butt?"

He spins around after he says this, prompting me to laugh.

"_Nope_," I conclude, after a serious examination.

"Good," he sighs, relief intertwined with fatigue. "Now I have cleared myself, I'm getting ready for bed."

I nod as he walks into the small bathroom, and I quickly take out my journal to write everything down (see- I'm ahead of myself!)

Oh James, if you only knew what I had in store for you.

* * *

_September 7th (It's dark. I do not have the time.)_

There's something peaceful about silence. With James, there's times when all I want for him is to be quiet, just so he could observe the serenity of it all.

That, of course, didn't happen, as he spoke nonsense second _after_ second until the moment he crashed.

Now I think I should try to get some sleep, but not here, while I'm wrapped in James' arms.

It's hard enough not to wake him removing his arms from my torso, but with the mattress squeaking up a storm as I get up, I'm surprised he didn't wake.

So much for silent springs.

I'm suing the mattress company.

* * *

_September 7th (Close to midnight, can't catch a wink of sleep)_

There are some things you don't put into a journal.

Things you can't fathom into real words, your true thoughts that are so jumbled it isn't funny.

So instead, you put them into a another journal.

You have to stay true to your creative medium, people. You can't just change it up in the middle.

I've written and thought of everything you could ever imagine, but some of it is for my own indulgences.

Some people just don't get it; showing them won't matter.

You have to be comfortable with your work before you show others.

This isn't for James' pleasure, nor Logan's, and _definitely_ not for Katie's pleasure.

My journal is for my own pleasure, but I'm sure people would want to hear my words sooner than later.

That's why I want to publish my journal. Not now, of course, but soon.

I want to be heard.

* * *

_September 7th (3:28AM, reminiscent of my encounter with Katie just a few short days ago.)_

I'm laying on the cold floor with a really bright mini flashlight in my hand, trying to write down everything that comes to mind.

They say you're only happy when you have someone to cuddle with. They just don't tell you how to feel when that certain someone is hogging the bed, drooling up a storm.

Looking at James, I realize he has one flaw: he snores.

Which, isn't so bad, I suppose. He'll get by with one flaw. ;)

* * *

_September 8th (Closer to sunrise. Still no sleep. I hate myself.)_

Every time I lay my eyes on him, my heart flutters.

He's sweet, wonderful, and dumb. He's too perfect and sometimes I'm wondering why he chose me.

He could have any he would want, but yet he's stuck with me.

It's so unreal, having someone to be happy with.

I feel so cheesy when I say it, but there's moments when I imagine my life without his smiling face.

I think I may be…

No. I can't begin to come up with words for it.

Nope. Won't say it. Not here. Not in my journal.

Instead, I close my eyes and think of another land.

Somewhere _peaceful_.

I'm almost asleep a few minutes later but all of a sudden I hear a voice.

"Kendall?" His voice is hoarse and the bed is squeaking.

Damn. Talk to you later, journal.

* * *

_September 8th (Breakfast- finally, I had some sleep)_

Here's what happened (quickly, I may add) before I fell asleep.

"Yeah?" I sit up and search for his eyes in the dark.

"Why aren't you up here, with me?" There's a hint of a smile in his voice. I think of the smile and shudder with happiness.

"Hold on," I say quietly, standing up and making my way to the bed.

His hand grabs mine as soon as I sit, making me laugh a little.

"Hi James," I grin, our faces touching.

"Hey," he whispers, pressing his utterly soft lips to mine.

_That's the moment I fell deeply in love with him._

I may be wrong, but at least I'm in a good place.

* * *

_September 8th (Reminder: What the hotel considers as dinner- disgusting. Do not order room service during the remainder of the trip.)_

Here I am, sitting at the uncomfortable desk doing jack squat while James is working out and being manly.

He invited me to tag along, but apparently the sight of me lifting is too much for him to handle. He ended up crying from laughter, asking me between fits why I was even in a sport, let alone why I'm actually good at it.

I decided to let him have his fun. I needed alone time anyways.

I'm desperately trying to wrap my head around everything; but instead of logical thinking, I'm coming up with our pet name. Somebody has to do it, and I'm _not_ letting Katie do it.

If it was up to her, we'd be "the lovely princes" getting married inside her head.

_Anyways_. Back to business.

James and I. Me and James.

James.

Kendall.

Jendall? No.

Jandall? Eh.

Kames. _Yes._

Perfect, we shall now be christened as the mighty Kames.

I call Logan to brag about my amazing victory.

"Yep, that's what you should refer to us by now. I think. Maybe. Was Jendall better, do you think?"

Here I am questioning my awesomeness._ Tsk, tsk._

He doesn't reply for what seems to be an eternity.

Anger begins to build inside me.

"I hope you're not too far into this, Kendall." He's sighing as he says this, alerting me in the process.

"What do you mean, Loge?"

He takes a second to answer my question. "I just don't think you understand who and what you're dealing with. It's kind of dangerous, especially because it's James."

I let my anger out.

"Just because I like him and he likes me back doesn't and shouldn't mean shit to you. You're probably just jealous, and maybe if Camille liked you back you wouldn't be such a hardass on every decision I make. I'm my own person, and you have no right to control me—"

His loud cough stops me mid-sentence. "I'm not trying to dictate you. I want you to realize you're, as a matter of fact, playing with fire. As your best friend, I want you to be happy, okay? Or else…"

"Yeah?"

"Or else I'll have to kick James' ass."

I snicker for a while at that one.

"Oh I know how tough you can be, Logan. James better watch out for your king fu stylings."

He repeats my laugh but gains a more serious tone. "I'm not joking, Kendall."

I roll my eyes, blowing off some steam. "Just so you know, Logan, I know what I'm dealing with. **_I'm_ quite _aware we're dying_**, and we'll be dead sooner than you think. I'll be _fine_. I promise."

I utter my promise as soon as James walks through the door, prompting me to quickly end the call with Logan.

* * *

_September 8th (In the bathroom. I hate my life.)_

Journal, here's what you missed in the past few minutes of Kendall's thrillingly exciting life:

_I got food poisoning while trying to romance James._

_He laughed._

_I'm _still_ horny._

Let's catch up from where I stopped:

"Hey," I murmur, standing up and slinking towards him. "How was their gym?"

"Uh, it was fine. Good facility, I think."

"Oh really," I smile, my husky tone finally leaving an imprint on him.

"Yeah, hey. You look cute."

I loop a finger through his belt loop and pull him to the bed.

"I try to look cute," I whisper as he presses his lips to my neck.

We're almost there when I feel it come up.

Fucking hotel food, you ruin everything.

* * *

review? :)


End file.
